


Beyond The Walls

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: "Hello?" Richie said, wincing as soon as he spoke. He probably sounded weird and creepy and this was a bad idea, wasn't it? Richie scratched the back of his neck. "Um, are you okay?" He asked, praying that he wasn't coming across as being weird but knowing better.There was a stretch of silence, tense and awkward and unbroken. Richie waited patiently, wondering if his neighbor had gotten up and walked away or, like he, was sitting there, silent and nervous."I'm fine." The neighbor replied in a stiff tone. "Sorry." He added after a moment passed. "I didn't think the walls were so...thin."
Relationships: Jon Bon Jovi/Richie Sambora
Comments: 16
Kudos: 12





	Beyond The Walls

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'll be around much longer than this, and it's gonna be all my fault. Just a warning.

Richie sighed, and as he set the last box down on the ground and cracked his back, he looked around the small apartment that smelt faintly of smoke and had peeling wallpaper. It was his, now. After five years of continuing to live with his parents despite long having turned eighteen, Richie finally had a place of his own, now, and pride blossomed in his chest as he imagined how things would turn out for him, now. 

It had been a long day, filled with signing paperwork and moving his own furniture and belongings out of his room and into his apartment. Countless times, his father and mother had offered to help, but Richie had smiled and rejected their offers, figuring that it wouldn't be so hard, but then he'd managed to get everything out into the truck and it was only then that Richie remembered that he had to somehow get everything up the stairs and into his third-floor apartment. 

After that, Richie had damn near given up. He had wrestled with the idea of calling a few of his cousins but, in the end, Richie had saved his dignity and pride but had almost fallen and snapped his neck more than a few times. A few neighbors had given their help on the way, but as Richie stood at the finishing line, he felt himself smile, figuring that the new calluses on his hands were more than well and worth it just for the pride. 

The sun had long settled beyond the horizon, and yet, the dying embers of its glow were still shining across the sky. Richie had gotten his bed set up, and figured that, after his shift the next day, he would get started on unpacking. He had gotten the essentials out, and that would be enough for the night. 

Although Richie felt exhausted, he grabbed his toiletries and decided on taking a shower, knowing that he would be against taking one in the morning. Despite having taken a shower that morning, Richie's hair felt greasy from sweat and he figured that the hot water would do his muscles some good. 

At least, Richie hoped so, anyways. He grabbed a towel from one of his bags and stood up, making his way into the bathroom, and then he paused, his back ramrod straight as his brain attuned to the noise that was coming from the other side of the wall. It was a soft noise, one that wouldn't have been noticeable if the walls weren't so thin, but it was audible, nonetheless, and Richie could feel himself frown 

His neighbor was crying. Richie didn't know why he cared for his nameless, faceless stranger of a neighbor, and knew that a reasonable person would just send his prayers and head into the bathroom for a nice shower before falling into bed, but Richie found himself rooted to the spot, perhaps out of sympathy or some twisted curiosity. 

Richie stared at the wall, as if hoping that he could, eventually, see through it and find the answers to his silent questions. He looked around his apartment and then stared at the ceiling as the crying grew in force. This wasn't anybody's business but his neighbor's, and Richie tried to move his legs so he could walk into the bathroom and keep the peace, but he couldn't. 

It felt weird and strange and intrusive, just listening as his neighbor cried for some mysterious reason. Richie exhaled heavily and then knelt down like a man at prayer, setting his shampoo and conditioner on the ground so he could reach out and gently press his hand against the wall, as if that could comfort his neighbor, who sounded distraught and regretful, in a way. Richie considered his options, and knew that the most reasonable one involved just ignoring the whole situation, but Richie had always been sensitive. 

"Hello?" Richie said, wincing as soon as he spoke. He probably sounded weird and creepy and this was a bad idea, wasn't it? Richie scratched the back of his neck. "Um, are you okay?" He asked, praying that he wasn't coming across as being weird but knowing better. 

There was a stretch of silence, tense and awkward and unbroken. Richie waited patiently, wondering if his neighbor had gotten up and walked away or, like he, was sitting there, silent and nervous. 

"I'm fine." The neighbor replied in a stiff tone. "Sorry." He added after a moment passed. "I didn't think the walls were so...thin." 

Richie let out a sigh that he didn't realize he'd been holding. "That's okay." He said, relieved that he'd gotten a reply. Richie had been so worried that the silence would just continue on and on and on until eternity passed. "I didn't either." 

"You're the new guy." The neighbor said. 

"How did you know?" Richie asked, his eyebrows furrowing on instict, shifting as his knees cramped in his current position. 

There was a faint, watery laugh. "You're not very quiet, either." The neighbor replied, sounding amused. 

"Oh, yeah." Richie laughed, too. He smiled, glad that the crying had stopped, if only temporarily. "Well, I'm sure that I was cursing loud enough for the neighbors downstairs to hear." He said. 

"Yeah." The neighbor said. "I'm sure they had a blast figuring out what you were doing." He suddenly sighed, and it was a surprisingly mournful noise. 

Richie's smile fell away. "What's wrong?" He asked, moving closer to the wall. 

There was no reply for a minute. And then for another. Time stretched on like putty being pulled apart by two hands, and Richie wondered if the neighbor had left. He suddenly was aware of his loneliness, and he stood up, but then he heard a sniffling noise. 

Pausing, Richie crouched down again. "Too soon?" He said. 

"No." The neighbor sighed, and then he started laughing, but it was a bitter noise that seemed to seep into the walls. "No. It's just - really fucking personal." He sighed again. 

"Right." Richie nodded. "Sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He said. 

"Don't be." The neighbor said, and he sounded calm again. "I'm Jon. What's your name?" He asked. 

"My name's Richie Sambora." Richie answered. "I just moved here from Sayreville."

"Did you?" Jon said mildly. "That's where I used to live." 

"Small world." Richie said. "Well, I've gotta go take a shower. I'll...see you tomorrow?" It came off as more of a question than anything else, but, somehow and in some way, Richie felt confident that he would see Jon tomorrow. 

"Sure." Jon agreed. 


End file.
